It seems like no one is reading this one at all...which sucks since ive been workin hard on it :(


If I could take a wild guess at what question is running through your head, it would be…Why is the one and only Chris Jericho telling me his life story? And the only answer to that is…well…there isn't really an answer. You'll just have to bare with me.

I have loved wrestling ever since I was six years old. Each night, I would watch the big names like Hulk Hogan and Bret Hart fight for championships. As I watched with devotion night after night, a desire formed within me; I was determined to fight in the same ring one day. After my mom finished putting Amy to bed, she would come sit with me and watch too. Most of the time she fell asleep but I didn't mind. As I got older, so did Amy. She didn't really understand wrestling like I did. I was always explaining to her what each move was and how it was done. Soon, however, she was a pro, just like me. We would watch it together every night, sharing a passion. We saw more than just the pointless violence that others perceived wrestling to be; we believed it was a sport. By this time I was old enough to mimic everything I saw on TV. I ended up breaking my arm after attempting to suplex my pillow off the bed. That's when I discovered the benefits of my first trampoline: it was softer than the ground, I can tell you that for sure. It was then I realized why "do not attempt" to flash across the screen. I was eight; what did I know? Let's move on from my stupid stunts; I'm not especially proud of them.

By the age of thirteen I was able to sign up for what was called MWTA: Manhattan Wrestling Training Association. The guys there taught me everything I needed to know to actually look like a wrestler. Plus, they taught me things I needed to know in order to wrestle well. After all, there is a big difference between being able to act tough and actually being able to defeat an opponent. Amy would come and watch me wrestle sometimes. I wouldn't let her in the ring when the other guys like Kevin and Dave were with me though. It was far too dangerous, and I don't think I could've lived with myself if any harm came to her under my supervision. Instead, she would watch us kick the shit out of each other until we were too tired to stand. Then she would come in the ring and act like a highflyer. I taught her the hurricanrana for the first time. Since that's the only move she could do, she practiced it a lot. By the end of my sixteenth summer, she was executing that move on every guy in the building. And we had some pretty big guys.

By age twenty I was the best wrestler in the place. There were a couple of talent scouts coming by now and then…and I always made sure to be there when they came. I wouldn't miss the chance to go into the WWE for anything. I had a practice match between one of the other members of MWTA. I pulled out all the stops, including my MWTA-famous Walls of Jericho. Within weeks I was off into the big leagues.

I know, I know, you are all probably saying, "Chirs, that still didn't answer how you ruined Lita's life." But we'll get there in time.

My sister, well we all know the story about my little sister going to Mexico to become a luchador and then her coming back to the U.S. to become WWE's best female wrestler. Now that we have that covered, let's get to the real story.